Off To See The Hobbit
by C. O. Rosette
Summary: Before I go see The Hobbit, this is my prediction of what the beginning will be like. People who have seen it will probably laugh at it, and I probably will too after I go see the real thing. So, here is what my bizarre imagination has come up with. Don't blame me if it's completely wrong. Blame my imagination. Enjoy the ridiculousness of it


**The long-awaited Hobbit Movie is finally here, and from what I've heard, all the actors from the original fellowship are reprising their roles somehow. At first I was wondering, if it's The Hobbit, why are all those characters going there? Then I realized it's a flashback! Of course! The whole Hobbit story is going to be a big flashback that Bilbo tells the fellowship when they're all at Rivendell! If course this is just my take on it before I go see it in a couple hours. All of you who've already seen it can point out that I'm wrong, but this one-shot is my prediction of how the subject of telling the fellowship of Bilbo's story comes up.**

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The halls of Elrond echoed of laughter as Dwarves, Elves, and Men alike enjoyed the Elrond's delectable banquet. Frodo was having a rather titillating conversation with Gloin son of Groin about Bilbo's adventures. As always, the stories were intriguing, but having heard them countless times before, Frodo was beginning to grow surprisingly tired of the tale. Especially from Gloin's own angle. He just couldn't tell tales like Bilbo could.

"Us Dwarves have climbed the tallest mountains! We have braved the largest seas! If you ask a Dwarf of his travels, he will always reply with a most adventuresome tale!" Gimli, Gloin's own son was raising his voice from across the hall at the other end of the table. "It was the Dwarves that are truly the superiority!"

To this, another voice, older than time, yet fresher than the waters spoke, "And what most adventurous tale may I ask that to be, Gimli son of Gloin?" Legolas, the elven prince of the Mirkwood elves, come to represent his father at the Council of Elrond, no doubt.

"I'll have you know, elf," Gimli spoke up yet again. "that the Dwarves were responsible for the downfall of Smaug!" At this, there was a silence. Not of shock, but of awe. Many had heard the legend of Smaug the Golden and how Bilbo and the thirteen Dwarves along with Gandalf went on one of the most acclaimed adventures through the misty mountains, all the while fighting trolls, goblins, and wolves. But the most spoken of part that was retold in most versions of the tale, was when Bilbo and the Dwarves took down Smaug. Smaug the Golden was one of the greatest and most powerful dragons of that age. He was a Fire-drake, and one of the last of them too. For years, he slept in his secluded mountain, hoarding gold and other various treasures that were stolen from their rightful owners. Some had tried to take over the Lonely Mountain where Smaug dwelled, but none prevailed, that was, until Bilbo and his ragtag group did. Because of this one tale, the Dwarves were widely respected for their courage and loyalty.

Unfortunately for Gimli (and all the other Dwarves, for that matter), a certain prince of Dale was not entirely intrigued by that declaration. "Is that what you believe to be true, oh, son of Gloin?" Brand son of Bain rose his voice among his fellow feasting men. All heads now turned in his direction.

Bain was attempting to silence his son from further embarrassment by whispering crossly to him, "Son, enough of this childish banter."

Brand turned his head around to face his father, a quizzical expression beseeching his face, "Father, I am only upholding our fair kingdom's honor." Then, before Bain could respond, Brand had turned back around and was now speaking to everyone else in the great hall, raising his voice so that it echoed off the mirrored walls and escaped through the open, stained-glass windows and running loose into the gardens of Elrond, "Dwarves, Elves, and Men of Middle Earth! You hear this arrogant, naive, young scoundrel speak of these so called 'heroics' and responsibility of the 'downfall of Smaug!' You hear him foolishly insult the men of Dale when WE were the the ones to truly slay the wretched beast!" The hall was again silent. But this time it was a silence with such intensity, it took a matter of seconds until the next response.

"Do you mean to call us Dwarves liars?" now Gloin had joined the scrap.

"All I am suggesting is that you kindly have your son silenced before he fills these pure halls with any more calumniation!" Brand spat back at where the Dwarves were seated.

"The Dwarves are a proud and noble people, and I will not have someone condemning us so! Especially someone who would be very well dead if it weren't for the Dwarves who stopped Smaug from aggressing on their city!" Gloin snapped right back at the hot-headed prince.

"I have seen many more than most Men or Dwarves in Middle Earth. Am I to be at fault that the Dwarves were actually the ones who awoken Smaug and set him loose upon the city of Dale?" before anyone else could state their position, another voice sounded from across the hall. Legolas had spoken again.

"And what, may I ask, were the Elves of Mirkwood doing during this very moment?" Gloin angrily roared, rising up from his seat.

"I do recall my father rescuing you and your foolish group from those very woods as you were very inexperienced to traveling in that form," Legolas smugly answered, a faint smirk tracing the outlines of his mouth.

That did it. All of the Dwarves along with everyone else in the hall gasped in utter shock at was just said as well as Gloin pulling out his sharpened dagger, thrusting it in his hand toward the Mirkwood prince, and bellowing out the words, "You lying imbecile! You Elves captured us and held us hostage in your dungeon! You did not rescue us or show us a thread of mercy before Gandalf arrived! Everyone take a good look at these Elves. They are nothing but deceitful fablers who speak well and often of their own nobility, when there was never any nobility to speak of in the first place!"

That definitely set things off in the hall of Elrond. The Elves who were usually calm and just, began an uproar of insults and affronts to the Dwarves, who sent even more right back. Soon the whole hall was a tornado of chaos, everyone, forgetting they were in a place of peace and joining in on the brainless-but-ever-growing brawl. Dwarves, Elves, and Men alike were all casting and cursing at one another, and soon enough, things including food, fancy dishes, small weapons, and a fair number of exotic, elven furniture were being thrown across the great hall. It was very unfortunate that Gandalf himself was unable to attend this festivity, as he was currently dealing with, "more important matters at the moment," as he had stated. Frodo had barely seen him since he had awoken to find himself in Rivendell. It was quite a shame, too. He would definitely have silenced the entire hall with his intimidating and respectable voice as it echoes of the decorative walls. But he wasn't there to aid Elrond in trying to ease the crowd (with little-to-no success), and the guests just kept getting angrier as the argument raged onward, each person telling their own version of the tale, each almost to completely inaccurate from how it really went according to what Frodo or the other hobbits had heard from Bilbo so many times before, no one once mentioning Bilbo or Gandalf in their story.

Frodo helplessly looked from Sam and Bilbo who were currently sitting on either side of him in wooden chairs with complicated patterns of leaves and other herbs carved into them to Merry and Pippin across the table, who both looked just as helpless and terrified. They were the only ones not participating in the demented fight, and instead resorted to ducking very low to the surface of the table for fear of getting caught up in the delirium of their companions' affray. It seemed there was nothing they could do. Frodo hung his head, staring down at the undevoured feast on the table surface, hopeless and defeated. Suddenly, something sparked in him. An idea of sorts. There on the table, among all the other unfinished delicacies, sat a massive leg of mutton on Gloin's plate. A giant bite had been taken out of it, and Gloin was was likely not happy with Gimli, Legolas, and Brand for interfering with him finishing it. That's it, Frodo thought. It was mutton that the trolls that Bilbo had encountered were eating before they spotted the group and decided to feast on them instead. It was always one of the highlights of Bilbo's story. Not like any of the other guests there had any knowledge of that sort of matter. They were all too busy bickering amongst themselves to actually think that part of the tale out yet. And in that moment, Frodo knew what exactly was needed to do.

"Bilbo!" Bilbo looked up from hiding his head when Frodo spoke. He sounded like it could be important.

"What is it, my lad?" Bilbo asked, curious about what Frodo would have on his mind at a time like this.

"Tell them about your journey. Your first adventure," Frodo called to Bilbo. Merry, Pippin, and Sam looked up at Frodo like he was mad. Why now? "No one seems to remember the tale correctly. Not like you do."

At that moment Bilbo seemed to understand what Frodo was trying to do. There was only one way to fix this whole scrap. One way to calm everybody's nerves and reveal the truth. But first he had to get their attention. Bilbo stood up, still painfully shorter than all of the quarreling guests. "Quiet!" his normally his voice would have rang through the air. But now it but nothing more but a whisper amongst all the noise going on around him. Frodo shook his head, knowing the other hobbits also knew more noise alone would not catch their attention. They sat back again, dejected. All of a sudden, something flew thourgh the air, aviating across the hall and hitting Erlond's most prized stained glass window of himself overlooking the hall. It made a sickening banging sound, obviously forced purposely to catch the attention of all the others. And it did. Once noticed everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their heads in the direction of the thrower. Bilbo was standing there on the table, very out of breath and agitated. Frodo noticed the big leg of mutton that had once sat on Gloin's plate was now gone instead had crack a hole in Elrond's window.

Once Bilbo had caught his breath he began to speak. Everyone listened intently, for he was now at the age that everyone gave him the respect to do so, "You're all fools! All of you! You gather here for a feast and end up in a useless war! And over what, I may ask, but a false aspersion. All of your tales of Smaug and Dale are from the truth. Only Gandalf knows what really happened, and none of you are as wise or as elderly as Gandalf. But listen in and I shall tell you what I know, which is more than I can say for you babbling idiots, for I have seen Smaug firsthand. Hopefully I shall clear the air of what this matter is really about."

At that, everyone forgot what they were just doing and sat back down, ignoring the massive they made. The hobbits were both surprised and bewildered at this unexpaected turn of events. Frodo believed was for the best. Even Elrond, intent on learning Bilbo's side of things ignored his cracked window and concentrated on Bilbo's words. It seemed that for once in a long while, the great hall of Elrond was peacefully silent, as everyone blissfully listened as Bilbo told his tale of an unexpected journey that led him there and back again.


End file.
